Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Luke
“ M orning Maggie, how are ya?” Luke said as he entered her domain in the bowels of Turner Hall.
“Hello, Luke. Jason’s kitchen closed?”
Maggie chortled at her joke and shimmied from side the side as she scrubbed a pan in the sink.
“He doesn’t crisp the bacon to my liking,” Luke muttered and sat on the kitchen table bench.
“Coffee in the pot, help yourself. I need to win the battle with the dishes.”
“You want some help?” Luke asked, flexing his muscles, twisting from side to side.
Maggie was gazing over her shoulder and laughed. “I missed you, son. It’s good to have you back.”
His heart clenched at the reference. Luke moved to the coffee machine and the personal stack of mugs Erica had put aside just for them .
He loved the kitchen as a kid. It was his haven when he didn’t want to be near his grandfather or aunt. The elders, as he called them, would never lower themselves to come into the bowels of the house and enter the service areas. Nothing ever happened when his father was home from the rigs. As soon as his dad was on the boat across to the mainland, his grandfather, Archibald Turner, liked to use his walking stick as a method of communication. His aunt wasn’t any better, singling him out for her sniping and swiping. Luke would run to the kitchens when they were on the warpath and cling to Maggie’s legs. When he grew older, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hid his face against her chest. She never, not once, turned him away. She always hugged him back and let him stay in her kitchens for as long as he needed to. When he calmed enough, Bailey would escort him to his bedroom to ensure he got there safely from the physical and verbal tirade his grandfather and aunt piled on him.
He hated Cynthia and Archibald. Hated that they thought it was okay to bully him. He never saw them do it to Archer or Jason. Luke begged Daisy to tell him if she ever suffered at their hands, but she always denied any harm.
Whenever they could, they stuck close, but the age gap prevented this with school years when his older brothers were in secondary school, and he was still in junior school.
Getting off the island was his priority, like it was for his siblings, but he never wanted to come back. Thankfully he only had to tolerate his aunt, and she was in hiding.
“All right, Luke, in what form do you want your bacon?” Maggie asked when she’d finished scrubbing.
“In a bap with brown sauce. If you have any hash browns, I’ll love you forever,” he said.
“I have all of those things. Take it easy, and I’ll start cooking. Do you want me to bring down the boxes for you to look through?”
“Um, no, not yet. Can you hang onto them for a while longer?”
“This is a big house, Luke, but my rooms are small. So I keep tripping over them. If I break my leg, how will you get your bacon?”
“Such a gloom merchant, Maggie. I’ve seen your rooms, they’re palatial. I promise to take them soon. I haven’t unpacked yet from the stuff arriving from the other house.”
“Is it sold?”
“Yeah, we completed a week ago. Feels odd, knowing this is our only home.”
He had imaginary straps snap onto his wrists. Again, the feeling of entrapment coursed through him. Luke shivered, mentally shaking off the shackles.
“You can always buy somewhere on the mainland.”
“Not likely. The proceeds of the house have been split four ways. I have savings from the rigs but not enough to buy something decent. Anyway, my job is here, and so is my family. I’m not looking to move away.”
“That is great to hear, Luke. Now, here is your breakfast. I need to get into town. Do you need anything else?”
“Did I keep you by demanding food?”
“No, Son, don’t be silly. I have hours to get to the butcher, and I have a buggy, so it takes no time at all now.”
“She’s a menace in that thing. We should instal seatbelts,” Bailey said, coming into the kitchen and scowling at Maggie.
“They have fitted seatbelts. Keith put them in all the buggies,” Maggie said.
Luke chuckled behind his hand as he saw Maggie roll her eyes. He loved these two people. Chalk and cheese, but they would never want to work anywhere else, with anyone else.
“I’m going to head off as soon as I’ve eaten this,” Luke said.
“Can I have a word when you’ve finished?” Bailey asked.
Luke knew what this was about, so he nodded and ate his sandwich slowly to put off Bailey being fatherly and urging him to do the right thing. Maggie gave a pointed glare to the back of Bailey’s head while tugging off her apron.
She knew too.
Maggie left the kitchen tossing her bunch of keys, and Bailey busied himself making a cup of tea.
He settled opposite Luke, waiting patiently for him to finish.
“What did you want to speak to me about?” Luke said after his final mouthful.
“Miss Turner wishes to speak to you.”
“No.”
Bailey exhaled through his nose and looked down at his cup.
“She’s not the same woman, Luke.”
“She is exactly the same woman, Bailey. I know she’s your employer, and you can’t say anything negative because it would go against your standards. However, she is still the same woman from when I was a child and teenager.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Not really, Bailey. I’m thirty-one. I’ve been away a long time, but I swear to you, being in the same room as her makes me feel like those twelve years never happened.”
“I’m sorry,” Bailey whispered to his cup.
“You didn’t hand out beatings, Bailey. There was nothing you could do. I don’t blame you. I was grateful for you and Maggie hiding me away when I needed to disappear.”
“I can’t not ask, Luke,” Bailey said quietly.
“I know that. And because you saved me a hundred times over when Dad was away, I’ll meet her.”
Bailey’s head snapped up. “Are you sure?”
“I’ll do it for you. Cynthia can’t beat me now, she’s too old, and I’m too strong.”
“Thank you.”
“Hide her cane when I have the meeting, will you?”
“Absolutely.”
Luke was thirty-one years old and still looked to the door to see if Maggie was already coming back because all he wanted to do was bawl in her arms. Just the thought of meeting Cynthia scared the shit out of him.
“I’ll let you know when it’s set up,” Bailey said, then drained his cup and stood.
Luke stood too, on his side of the table, picking up his empty plate to take to the sink. “The sooner, the better, Bailey.”
“Leave the plate, Luke. I’ll wash it up.”
Luke did as he asked, only because Bailey needed to take care of him.